


Cigar Smoke and Stiff Brandy

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [7]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Godfather!au, Mob Boss! Harry, pre-mentorship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: I don't own Kingsman (all rights go to, obviously, Mr Vaughn), nor do I own any of the rights associated with The Godfather, since it was put in both print and film before I was even born.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Kingsman (all rights go to, obviously, Mr Vaughn), nor do I own any of the rights associated with The Godfather, since it was put in both print and film before I was even born.

Eggsy needed help.

He didn’t like begging other people to help him take care of his family - his dad had died when he was just little, leaving him as man of the house and in charge of his mother’s well being until she could get herself on track, make sure she was taken care of. And the men his mother brought home…. He could leave it with Dean Baker being the latest in a string, who had been around long enough to worm his way into their bank account and change his mother’s last name. With him came back-alley thugs and low-ball drug running, not enough to get caught by coppers if they were careful, but enough that Eggsy had begun to feel the heat under his collar that told him he needed to unhook his mother from the drugged-up haze Dean had fed to her. He had tried other ways to get them out, honest work, enough to pay the bills, even tried the military. But no matter where he seemed to turn, Dean would always be whispering in his mother’s ear, fighting him and dragging him down.

Eggsy didn’t like begging people to help him, but he wasn’t afraid to get down on his knees if he had to.

So here he was, sitting in a drawing room decorated with cherry oak furniture and leather, bookshelves lining the wall by the window opposite what seemed to be old and ostentatious family portraits. The room itself was hazy, clouded from continuous cigar smoke and smelled of brandy and tobacco. The overstuffed chair he had been all but forced into would have been comfortable under any other circumstances than his current one, and he sat ramrod straight, pressing his feet to the floor with force so the shake of his knee couldn’t betray his nervousness. The man sitting behind the desk was nearly his opposite. Tall, elegant, in a well-fitting and probably custom suit juxtaposing Eggsy’s stockier frame and off the peg blazer and slacks, his hair sleek and falling intentionally over his forehead. He had crossed his ankle over his knee and sat nearly on an angle, though still managed to look like a proper gentleman despite his surroundings. A starburst scar drove pale lines from his left eye to his hairline just above his temple, where there seemed to be far too little grey for a man his age.

“I feel as though I’m being a horrid host,” he said softly. “You’ve come all this way. Archie - get this young man some water, please. Unless you’d prefer something stronger?” Eggsy gulped as the man’s seemingly bottomless brown eyes finally turned to him. He tried to move his head, but he couldn’t.

“Water is fine, sir.” The gentleman before him shook his head and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Nonsense. Get him a stiff cup, if you would.” The bald man who had escorted him in left the room, and they were left in silence for several minutes. Eggsy tried to look anywhere but at the man without being impolite, but found it difficult when he could feel himself being studied. He was saved when the other man - Archie - had returned with tea and a small decanter of brandy, pouring them both a cup and mixing them. Nodding his thanks and offering a weak smile as he accepted the cup, Eggsy waited until the other man had taken a sip before he too tried his own. “Now, you seem like a nice young man. What could you possibly require from me that you couldn’t do yourself?” Eggsy set his tea down on the saucer on the desk and swallowed thickly.

“It’s my mother, you see. She’s a widow, and since my father died she hasn’t quite been the same. She brought home men here and there for a while. I didn’t complain, she seemed happy. At least, until the latest.” The man set his tea down carefully.

“How long ago did your father die, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I was seven.”

“My condolences. What seems to be the problem with this newest man of hers?”

“Thank you.” Eggsy picked up his teacup again, even just to cradle it and feel some sort of warmth seep into his bones. “She married him. But she doesn’t see how abusive he is - how difficult he makes our lives.” Something akin to what may have been anger flashed through the man’s eyes, and Eggsy paused to collect himself. “He’s got her hooked on drugs, you see. She isn’t even coherent half the time. And my baby sister - half sister really, but she’s still my family, and I don’t ever want to see something happen to her because her mum’s gone round the bend and her dad is who knows where, and I just know they wouldn’t leave me as guardian.” His nerves were starting to get to him, he could feel his south London accent creeping into his speech.

“You want him gone, but you’re afraid that you won’t be able to care for your family.” The man made to dismissed his colleague.

“Harry -” he waved his hand, and Archie left the room. Harry stood and walked over to an ornate gold mirror, and called him over to stand next to him.

“Do you know what I see?” Eggsy shook his head. “I see someone who knows the value of family, who protects the people he cares about with everything he has. Someone willing to risk his life to come see me, even if it goes against everything he stands for.” His eyes widened and his mouth parted slightly. “Oh, I know all about that, Gary. The moment I knew you were coming to see me I learned everything I could about you. Your father would have been proud of how hard you’ve tried.” The man smiled softly at him through their reflections, before hardening his expression again.

“I’m in a giving mood, so I’m going to help you. Someone with your potential shouldn’t be wasted in the life you’re living.”

“Thank you, sir.” This was more than Eggsy could have hoped for, could have dreamed. It rubbed him the wrong way to ask for someone’s help, but if he had to ask anyone he was glad it was this man.

“Don’t thank me yet, I wasn’t finished.” He paused, looking Eggsy over. “I’ll get your mother and sister out, set them up in a comfortable flat entirely paid for and in her name, and make sure you never see hide nor hare of your stepfather or his goons ever again.  _ On one condition _ .”

Now, Eggsy knew that blokes like him didn’t get breaks like this without offering  _ favours _ , although perhaps  _ offering _ wouldn’t quite be the right word. It just wasn’t in their cards, and these favours didn’t often end any other way than bruised knees at the best of times. He wouldn’t have minded -  _ wouldn’t mind at all really, if he were being honest _ \- but he felt like that sort of exchange would leave him far worse for wear. He tried not to let any dismay show in his voice.

“And what’s that? Sir.” Harry smiled again, small and secret and just at the corner of his mouth, like he had been saving it for this moment.

“ _ You’re going to help me to do it _ .” Eggsy’s eyebrows shot up. “Their freedom, in exchange for your employment. You get what you want, and I get what I want.” Harry was close enough to touch him, if he wanted, and Eggsy could feel the heat of him against his back.

“What is it that you want?” His voice was hardly more than a whisper in the smokey room. Harry’s eyes slowly trailed up from his shoes to his hair before resting again on his face, and he smiled again before turning and leaving him alone in front of the mirror and in the room, wondering  _ what in the hell he had just gotten himself into _ .


End file.
